What You Do
by Anamin
Summary: Belle asks a question of Rumple. smut. no real imagery M to be safe


What You Do.

A/N : Always uncomfortable about smut, but I have an idea for a companion piece already if this is well received. I don't Beta, just throw things out there raw. I hope you enjoy.

"Rumple, what exactly do you do while you are away?" She was in her blue linen dress with the corset that showed her soft, young, virginal cleavage. He flexed his fingers. Her eyes were wide with curiosity. That look she got. She was sitting on the long end of the table as she did when she got inquisitive, her pretty heels swinging back and forth with the movement of her legs.

It wasn't the first time she'd asked. The first time he'd told her to mind her own business, but once he remembered he could take away her memories, a game sort of evolved for him. And he'd taken her memories away after those times, too. Her blue eyes and pretty red lips sought answers. It was difficult for him to have her in the castle from a sheer lust standpoint. She was the best looking thing in this castle and at times it was a struggle for him to communicate with her. It seemed his pants always felt tighter when she was around. But she had not objected before, and in fact was quite encouraging, so he knew she wouldn't object to the actions he took next.

"I can tell you or I can show you, the choice is yours." He stepped closer, not threatening, testing. She always preferred the latter so he knew how to phrase his words just so. He saw her shiver. He found it odd his nearness produced this reaction in her, but as she said herself, if she is to know just one person, it may as well be him. He took great pains during her waking hours to never get too near her. If his proximity was a reward for her, he would have to take it away. Carrot and stick. But in this specific case, he knew he could get something out of it as well, a man had needs. The look on her face when she reached satisfaction was always near enough to get his own satisfaction. But he denied himself this as a punishment for losing Bae. Denying himself was one way to keep himself on the path to reunification with his son, at least in recent times. It was all too easy to lose focus some days.

"Show me," her voice was a whisper. His proximity had left her breathless. He just had that effect on women. He was certain at this point as with the other times she didn't care what it was he was about to show her, indeed he was guessing her mind had already fled. He leaned in and kissed her on her young, soft neck, gently and pulled back. Her skin became goosebumps.

"Sometimes I am called on for my more *experienced* services, as part of a deal," he whispered in her ear. Indeed Cora had been his last dalliance. That had been fun before he decided to live like a monk. Sadly, it was merely a fling. He felt angry the more he thought about it, but Belle had been quite effective at taking his mind off Cora. Belle's innocence was very much a big part of her allure. He couldn't deny answering her wide blue eyes anything she requested. Even if he had to put on a mask of nastiness to cover the fact that she'd grown on him.

"Shall I continue?" He always asked. He never believed for one second his touch, the way he looked, was at all desirable to her. She always answered in the affirmative. Curious as she was about the ways between man and woman and convinced she would be here forever, her virtue took a back seat to her curiosity.

"Yes Rumple, please continue." She was beginning to sound wanton, quite unlike herself. Her eyes remained shut. He had a feeling she wanted her sense of touch to become just that more sensitive. Her hands gripped the table so her knuckles were white. Idly, Rumplestiltskin wondered what those hands were capable of, but it mattered not. He could always glamour a spell to look like whoever she desired, but he didn't know who that could be and he feared the answer would be himself. He didn't need that kind of attachment. . .or weakness.

Sitting the way she was on the table, she looked to be offered up, like a sort of platter. He leaned in an began kissing and nipping his way down her neck, stopping to spend some attention on her collarbone. Belle's breath had hitched in her throat, her breathing erratic. She was warm and smelled of the lemon soap he made available to her for washing. He nuzzled her, and her hands came up around his back urging him to press his mouth closer. One hand ventured into the tangle of feathery soft hair and tugged, not letting go. She was openly panting as he continued down to her soft cleavage, he lavished kisses first to one half and then the other. The idea was to keep her clothed so when she came to from the memory spell, she would not consider that anything had happened.

Suddenly, the game changed. She hopped off the table and pushed him backward. Her eagerness bringing both of them to the floor. This was new. Rumple blinked, and it was all he had time to do. That's not how it went before. It was as though she had suddenly gone mad. Even now she giggled in that girlish way she had. He was sure she wasn't drunk because he had no drink in the castle at the moment.

He had magic, which was always preferable. He sat up and was about to admonish her but she had become quite quick and his head was spinning. She straddled his right leg and began to kiss him. She playful at first, as Rumple couldn't except it was happening and then he opened himself up to her and made his kisses deeper, tongue battling tongue. She eagerly splayed her hands on his warm chest wandering to the opening she stared at for days on end, just to get the feel of it. She tugged at the laces, she wanted more. Her hands were small, but insistent and began to work their way down. Fortunately the crocodile leather he wore had very little give.

Rumple decided he had to put a stop to this. He was on too long of a streak to break it now. He placed his hands beneath her skirt and massaged her rump, bringing her to kneeling positing, no under things this time around. She must have remembered something from last time. Wordlessly, he lifted her back on to the table, hiking her skirts high. Then he slipped two fingers inside her just like before, her slickness was a testament that she was very ready for this part. Rumple splayed his own legs for support as he stood and performed this service. Not to mention keep his mind off his own need.

Belle froze with one intake of breath as he worked his fingers in and out of her slowly. She began to buck her hips in time to his movements at the edge of the table. He sped up with one hand the other coming up to supporting her as she leaned back in absolute pleasure. She began to mew like a lost kitten, and he knew she was close.

He leaned in to her and whispered "It's ok to release for me, Dearie." Her entire chest, and neck, what he could see of it was flushed red. Finally her inner muscles contracted around his fingers in climax, and she cried out. Breathing hard, she set her forehead against his. Rumple now put both arms behind her, drawing them close.

"Thank you Rumple, for showing me exactly what you do when you are away". They continued that way for few moments in tableu, neither wanting to break away, but abruptly, Rumple did. He was master here, yet was unsure if he wanted to take her memory away this time around. She had initiated something completely on her own, and he wasn't sure he wanted to forget this moment either.

It could change everything. It could change nothing. Rumple continued with his hands under her skirt to run his hands along her rump, just feeling the skin there. . .then he decided. With a snap of his fingers, he cleaned her up and sent her to her bed memory, cleansed. He put her in a nightgown this time, perhaps it would jog a memory perhaps not. Either way she was tucked up in a four-poster bed upstairs and he was alone on the still rock hard. Well there was a potion or everything wasn't there.

Rumple pulled himself together and magicked himself to his lab far below his inquisitive maid. Until the next time she asked.

-FIN


End file.
